


Heathens

by trucecab



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M, josh dun - Freeform, tyler joseph - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 18:53:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7373473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trucecab/pseuds/trucecab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I felt very inspired by the theories people made in relation to the heathens music video, so I decided to create a backstory that made the most sense to me. Hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heathens

It was 7:36 A.M. Tyler had just woken up from a particularly brutal nightmare, a cold sweat breaking out along his face and arms, his entire body tingling. In the dream, he found himself at his best friend, Josh’s, house, standing in the kitchen. Wondering where Josh was, he began walking, and felt a slight weight in his right hand. To his horror, he looked down and realized he was gripping a large, sharp, meat knife. He tried to turn around to put it away, but suddenly felt as though he wasn’t in control of his body. His feet started moving at an unusually quick pace, towards Josh’s bedroom. Passing a mirror, he barely recognized himself… his neck was covered in black goo, and his eyes had abandoned their usual dark brown hue for a striking scarlet red.  
Terror rose in his throat and he tried to scream, but no sound escaped his lips. Realizing there was absolutely nothing he could do, he watched as his body entered Josh’s room. Josh was cowering in a corner, crying; Tyler would have given anything to simply kneel next to the kind boy and comfort him, as he had done many times before in their long relationship. At the same time, though, he felt a pang of undeniable rage. Before he could comprehend what all of it meant, he felt his right arm raise, the knife firmly planted between his thumb and fingers. He brought it down, forcefully. Then he woke up.  
Tyler had been having this nightmare for weeks, always the same exact events. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake the memory of it out of his head, though he had a feeling it would never leave him. He sat up, expecting to see the familiar surroundings of his room around him. But he didn’t. His heart sank. He wasn’t home because he was in prison. For killing his best friend. His nightmare was reality. Tyler pulled his bedsheets closer and weeped, wishing with every ounce of his body that he could have one more minute with his best friend.  
To his surprise, Tyler noticed his cell door was ajar, and a warm light washed into the hallway. There was not a guard to be seen. Tentatively, he stepped out of his cell. To his surprise, he was welcomed by the all-too-familiar beats of Josh’s drum set. Following the comforting sound, Tyler reached a dimly lit room with a square platform placed in the middle. There was the source of the sound; his buddy Josh was drumming peacefully, and his bass was off to the right waiting for him. He was overcome with a relief. He was just here to play a show, that’s all. He smirked at Josh and strode confidently up to the platform, donning a fitted yellow suit jacket and silky black shirt.  
He began strumming the bass and singing his heart out, content to be doing his favorite thing again. People started pouring in around their platform, and he let himself get lost in his music. He kept looking at Josh, who was wearing his usual muscle tee and a black beanie, but couldn’t shake the feeling that he had forgotten something.  
As Tyler was finishing their new smash hit Heathens, singing the words “it looks like you might be one of us”, the light from beneath the platform dimmed suddenly. Tyler’s head burned as though he had been trapped underwater for too long, and he felt a strong pang in his chest. The platform had vanished, along with the band’s instruments, and… no, it couldn’t be… Josh was gone. Tyler was sitting cross legged on the floor, feeling as lonely as he had ever felt. The crushing weight of reality was strong enough to kill him. In fact, he really did think he was dead, until he heard the wailing of an alarm. Seven guards surrounded him, armed with huge guns, all pointed at his skull. He sat there, unmoving, the light devoid from his eyes.  
He was escorted back to his cell by two of the guards, wishing one of them had pulled the trigger. When they reached the door to his cell, Tyler saw the warm sunlight again, and his body filled with much needed hope. He turned to find Josh drumming in the cell across from him. Tyler pressed his hands against the metal bars, wishing he could hug Josh, kiss him, even, until he felt better. Not a second later, however, he was across the hall in his own cell, looking at an inmate he didn’t care to get to know. Josh wasn’t there. Josh would never be there again. He needed to get that through his head. He couldn’t keep forgetting for the rest of his life.  
Tyler started banging his forehead against the bars, wanting to feel something other than immense loneliness. He decided to try and draw anything he could remember about Josh; his hair, his tattoos, his eyes. Tyler liked to do this when he got confused. It gave him a purpose, and he desperately needed one. He sometimes liked to draw the places he remembered them going together, too, like venues and restaurants, because having tangible memories of their relationship made him feel saner. He loved to remember the good times they had together; some of his favorite conversations were in their cramped tour van, before they had enough followers to afford anything better. He and Josh would talk in depth about how they didn’t really understand their parents, but loved and missed them all the same.  
Tyler stopped when he got to a memory from Josh’s house. He never could bring himself to draw that place. He was given a tray of dinner by one of the guards, but had no desire to eat it. He sat on his uncomfortable, springy mattress for hours, past midnight, humming lyrics from his songs to draw him away from the inevitability of sleep. Tyler especially liked his song We Don’t Believe What’s On TV, because it had the happiest lyrics. He always liked to tell fans it wasn’t for Josh, but it secretly was. When Josh would get anxious before shows, Tyler would sing it softly for him to make him forget. Tyler seemed to be doing too much forgetting now. His eyelids drooping, Tyler lay his head on his pillow, distracted by his happy memories. He realized early on in their relationship that he loved Josh, and always would. But blurryface got the better of him, and he would have to pay the price for it for the rest of his life.  
In one last moment of peace, Tyler fell asleep.  
And then he was standing in Josh’s kitchen.


End file.
